


Familiar Spirit

by Thymelady



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Birth Control, F/M, Fix-it fic, Fluff and Smut, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Ichabbie Holloween, Mourning, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, black kitty cat, ichabbie - Freeform, intimacy issues, vaguely set in S4 which doesn't really exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymelady/pseuds/Thymelady
Summary: A black cat moves in with lonely, grieving Ichabod Crane just before Halloween. It seems to be a familiar spirit.Addition 1st of October 2017: new 'chapter' containing artwork made by Doomtwinkie. All in the spirit of Halloween! :)





	1. Reunited Spirits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinysparks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/gifts).



> Very quick fic, completely unbeta'd. Written for Ichabbie Holloween 2016.
> 
> For Shinysparks. <3 It was Abbie's turn. ;)

The black cat waited outside the door to his dull apartment complex every day for a week. It was always the best moment of the day when it came running to him, purring like a little engine and rubbing against his leg. It would look at him plaintively when he scratched it behind the ears.

On the seventh day, there was no cat. He felt disappointed and went inside of his small apartment. He tried to relax, had some rum, put the TV on… He did everything but think. Think and remember only led to tears, more drinking, more tears, stupor and feeling even worse the day after. He needed to heal, everyone said. They didn’t understand that his grief was deeper than the wound on his chest that had killed him so quickly back in 1781. This killed slower, but it killed him all the same.

After an hour of restlessness, he jumped out of the sofa; the same sofa that had been in her home – _their_ home, which she had insisted on. He went to the small kitchen, opened a can of tuna, hastily put on his coat and went out.

There was a grove next to his apartment complex; he decided to try there first.

“Kitty…?” he called, and went further into the grove while knocking a fork against the tuna can. “Kittyyyy…?”

It was dark. Why was he out there in the first place? Cats would come and go, he knew that. It had no necklace, but it looked healthy and fed. It had a home. Why did it matter?

_Because you’re lonely and the cat had oddly dark eyes for a cat._

He hated his mind these days. Hated the crystal clear memories that would pop up. What did it help that they were so clear, as if they were real. They were not real. It was in the past. Too late.

The grove got darker. He put the fork in his pocket, took up his smartphone and put on the flashlight. At least it would prevent him from tripping. He should have brought that clever head device with a flashlight that the Lieutenant had taken from her work. He still had it.

_Lieutenant…_

No-one would see if he cried as he walked in the dark, but it would make it harder to see.

_Get a grip, man._

“Kitty? Here, kitty kitty…”

“Yowl!”

“Kitty?”

“YOWL!!”

He ran in the direction of the sound. It seemed to come from a tree stump. He heard a cat meowing. If it was the wrong cat, he’d at least helped another creature this night. Coming closer, he saw that a large branch had blown over the stump. Examining it closer, he soon saw a pair of eyes gleaming towards him. He knew those eyes.

“Ah- kitty?” he said, correcting himself.

_Idiot. It’s the cat, of course._

The meow sounded pitiful but relieved. He removed the branch that was surprisingly heavy, and the cat leaped out of the stump. In the radiance of the flashlight, he saw it rubbing intensely against his boots, making small meows of contentment.

“Hello, there! Well, good thing I went out after all!” he said and bent down on one knee. To his utter surprise, the cat instantly jumped up on his knee and stretched all it could to head butt his face.

“Oh! Well, someone knows how to show gratitude!” he said and enjoyed the lavish display of affection from the little feline. The cat rubbed its head against his beard and the small nose butted against the tip of his. Then the cat started to lick the bit of his cheek that was free of hair.

“Why, kitty…” he chuckled. His chest filled with warmth as the little creature settled in under his coat against his chest. He hadn’t felt this happy in many months. He tried to offer the cat some tuna from the can, it sniffed and ate a bit, but soon returned to showing Crane how happy it was to be cuddled.

“There, now,” he whispered soothingly to both the cat and himself. “Where do you live, kitty? Not here, surely?”

“Mreow.”

“No necklace and no-one has been out looking for you?”

“Mreow.”

“Best conversation I’ve had in ages,” he muttered and actually meant it. He stood up, cat still in his embrace, and started to walk back. The cat didn’t protest or try to jump down. Its face had settled against his neck and occasionally rubbed against the hollow of his throat, still purring with great contentment.

_So I’m taking this cat home. I am actually taking this cat home. Only to see if I can find the owner. Or make sure it will be taken care of. Yes. But until then, I’m taking this cat home. Consider it: a lonely, black cat outdoors now, when it’s almost Halloween! It could get hurt. Get chased. The stump might trap it again. No. It’s safer with me, for the moment._

As soon as they got in, the cat jumped down and started to investigate his sad little place with great enthusiasm. It meowed constantly; they sounded like happy little meows. It took great interest in his furniture, especially the sofa and the books. It paraded on the kitchen countertop, happily head butting the coffee machine. It nearly screamed as it went into the bedroom and saw the bed. His bed now. It had been her bed, back in their home. ‘Take everything you need’, Jenny had said as they packed up everything in the house that had been his and Abbie’s home. Now, her bed was in his lonely bedroom, only tonight there was a cat that happily rolled on it, back and forth. He went over to pet it, and it accepted to be lightly rubbed on the stomach. Then it rolled back and forth again, purring happily.

Suddenly, it got up and looked wildly at a few sad plants on his window sill. With an irritated ‘mrrrr’, it jumped over there and sniffed on them.

“Don’t you dare using that as a toilet! You let me know when you need to go outside, alright?” he said warningly.

The cat glared his way, clearly disgruntled.

“MEOW!” it sounded loudly and accusingly.

“No, not a toilet.”

“MEEEOWW!” it went again, showing no intent on befouling his neglected plants.

“And no biting either, kitty! I know they look sad. I will deal with it. You see: they’re succulents. They can survive most things, but they are in need of a little love. It’s a beautiful memory, even if the look of them makes me sorrowful. You see, we used to be a succulent family…”

_I’m explaining this to a cat._

Crane suddenly sat down on the bed, face in his hands and battling the tears. After a few moments, the cat was next to him, purring and rubbing against him. When he opened his arms to it, it settled on his knee again and licked some salty tears from the side of his eyes.

“You are quite the special little feline, aren’t you?” he mumbled.

 

The next day, he stayed home. He got a fine, red necklace with some bright gemstones to the kitty. He suspected that it was a female and simply called it kitty. He took several photos of it and even posted on Facebook, saying that he had found it. If nothing else, it yielded plenty of ‘likes’. The kitty took great interest in what he did on his phone and looked at him approvingly. She was the best thing that had happened to him since… Well, it eased the pain of being home alone, surrounded by memories.

He soon found that he simply talked to his cat (he never bothered looking for an owner) and the cat frequently meowed back in a manner that seemed appropriate. She was always close to him when he was home, always waiting for him to get home. She slept close to him in bed, but mostly slipped out when he was dressing. Once or twice, she had stayed and washed herself as he dressed or undressed, but she behaved strangely then. He probably just imagined it. One night, when he had been in battle, she was beside herself, making sure he took proper care of himself. She seemed to know what he needed and where everything was. She would sniff his books with great interest. After some days, she indicated her interest in one book especially; a tiny, leather bound book that was old. He was worried that she’d scratch it, but she was always very careful and only scratched the pole he had gotten her for the purpose.

“This one, kitty? Why this one?”

He read the title: Familiar Magick.

“Kitty? Can you read?” he asked jokingly with a raised eyebrow. The cat purred contentedly. He sat down on the sofa to read it and she settled next to him. She kept looking at him, not settling down to nap next to him.

He started to peruse the book, but the cat’s paw landed on the page.

“What? Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he said jokingly. The cat meowed and it looked like it tried to turn the pages. Crane turned some of them, but the cat tried to turn more. “Kitty, do you have a favourite story in here?” he laughed.

He flipped the pages until the cat stopped him.

“Human Spirits Familiars,” he read aloud. The cat meowed insistently. He frowned and looked at his kitty. “This?” he asked. The cat rubbed his arm.

He felt hot and cold at once. It hadn’t quite struck him that there could actually be something supernatural about the cat. If anything, it was the most benevolent little creature he had ever met. But what it did…

Crane was slowly stroking the cat, and it purred in contentment. He tried to put the book down, but the cat instantly jumped up with an annoyed meow, hitting after the book with the paw. Crane took it up again and began to read the chapter.

“For Halloween, when the veil between the living and the dead are thinner than any other time of the year, the spirit of a beloved that has entered into familiar form can be called back…”

… the spirit of a beloved that has entered into familiar form can be called back…

The words swam before his eyes.

_It’s just a book. Just a cat. Just a coincidence._

He had to breathe deeply and close his eyes. It wasn’t long before the cat was in his lap.

“Meow…” she begged.

“It’s not possible…” he whispered. But the cat just meowed and head butted his chest.

He finally had control over his breath and looked down on the feline on his lap. She looked up at him. Her eyes were deep and soft. So trusting. So loving. So… like hers.

“It… can’t be?” he mumbled in a broken voice. But the cat purred. He put down the book, and the cat didn’t protest now. Feelings were threatening to spill over. It was horrible how hope filled his entire soul so quickly. He closed his fist and put it over his mouth, screwing his eyes shut. His heart would break, he could feel it. He had to try, wanted to try. He wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to try. Sighing, he lowered his fisted hand to his knee.

Ha saw the cat sniffing his fist. Then it did an odd move with its paw. It let the paw butt against his fist. The kitty…

“Fistbump…?” Crane mumbled.

“Meow.”


	2. Halloween Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crane and Abbie the cat attempt to make a Halloween ritual. Abbie's point of view as a cat. 
> 
> Dedicated to Nickey79 (Twitter: @Nickki31) as a belated birthday gift! :D
> 
> Still a bit angsty at the end. Mentions the Wicked Whispering Witch. >;P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated on popular demand! I am quite honestly _BLOWN AWAY_ by the reactions to this fic! Our fandom is the best! Ichabbie 4ever!!  <3 
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I have attempted to write about a Halloween/Samhain ceremony that probably comes very close to Wiccan practice. I am not Wiccan myself, even if my mother sort of was (but definitely didn't know that name for it). I myself lean towards my progressive protestantism that is often deeply influenced by the Scandinavian love of all things nature, and there are still old people here who carved beets in their childhood and set out offering to spirits during this time of year. Many younger people do it again. So I do feel a connection, but I have no wish to appropriate anyone's religion. If this isn't a perfect description of such a ceremony, it's because it's not meant to be. It's all meant to be fiction, but hopefully respectful. I doubt that any Celtic chants remain, and if they do, it wouldn't be my place to use them. You must use your imagination.

Abbie wasn’t too fond of car rides anymore. Her human mind reminded her that this was nothing strange, and often necessary. Her cat instincts screamed something else. It was too fast, too hard to keep things under control. And both Abbie the human and Abbie the cat needed to be in control.

Crane tried to cajole her into lying on the passenger’s seat, but that would make her sick. She wanted to stand on Crane’s lap and rest her paws on the steering wheel. Crane reasoned with her, and she gave up with an irritated ‘mrrp’. His fingers scratched her behind the ears and she relented, head butting into his hand. He drove slowly, for her sake.

Being a cat was strange and she didn’t know how it had happened. All she knew was that she had to get back to Crane, and that had been accomplished. She was quite content with that. But she needed to be human again. Didn’t she? That was the point. That was foremost in her mind, something that some higher power had planted there. A benevolent power, she knew. But being Crane’s pet wasn’t so bad most days. Sleeping long hours. Running around in the grove next to the apartment complex. Chasing flies! She was so happy to be with him again, and being able to cuddle up close to him, having his hands stroking her fur. In many ways, she had never been more happy or carefree.

As a cat with cat instincts, it wasn’t always easy to be philosophical. But there was something in her mind that urged her to make sure Crane understood. She needed and wanted to be human again. Then, other days, when she was home in the little apartment, Crane was out on some mission and she was bored and worried out of her mind – then she knew why. She needed her own agency. She was nobody’s pet, not even Crane’s. She was a human trapped in a cat! She wanted to be by Crane’s side, yes. Fully human.

She glanced at the backseat, where Crane had packed in a cornucopia of produce from his favourite farmer’s market. There was also a basket of candles, ‘to set a mood’ he had joked and she had hissed at him. He only chuckled. There was also an old sickle that he had found on a yard sale. A tablecloth in red nuances was carefully folded into the basket. A bottle of local cider. He had encouraged Abbie to find dried leaves that she liked, and he had carefully gathered some. Finally, the book that she has pointed out and Washington’s Bible were added into the basket.

There was also a bag with some of her clothes in the backseat. Crane had looked terribly embarrassed when he took them out of the wardrobe, but she already knew about all that. She understood that he and Jenny had been forced to get rid loads of stuff from her former… life. Seeing how much he had saved out of practicality but also sentimentality actually made her happy. She felt wanted. Sure, it was _creepy_. Her old self would have yelled at him higher than she could yowl. It was just… She would have said that he had no business saving her clothes. But he had, hadn’t he? Also; bringing the clothes was thoughtful and showed that he expected the spell to work.

Abbie was so nervous that she started to caterwaul pitifully. Crane stopped the car and soothed her for a while, letting her crawl under his coat and cuddle against his chest; her favourite place. She knew he loved when she did that, she could feel how he relaxed as well, how his heartrate was strong and steady and how stroking her sleek fur soothed them both. It was a place that she had occasionally dreamt of before she died. She should have told him back then. To hell with the consequences, really.

He knew who she was even as a cat, and he hadn’t cuddled her less since he found out. Been more fidgety, yes. Talked even more sense with her. Gone into rants that made her purr happily and blink slowly and lovingly to him. He did his outmost to find out what she wanted. Even offered her cappuccino. She liked the smell, but only licked the foamed milk on top. But he’d still take every opportunity to pick her up and let her head butt his face. She mostly refrained from licking him, except for some mornings when his forehead was salty.

If the spell worked, would she fully be herself again? What if she turned into a mountain lion instead? Or someone else? She wanted to be herself, be _Abbie_!

What would they do next, if it worked? Cohabit in his small flat? Same bed…?

“It’s going to be alright, Lieutenant,” she heard Crane whisper with his lips resting on her furry head, just beside her left, pointy ear. “It’s going to be alright.”

He needed that reassurance as much as she did. He drove on slowly but let her stay where she was, tucked against his chest, and mostly drove with just one hand on the wheel. Human Abbie would have berated him for that, and cat Abbie still did, but also had other needs.

Their destination was the same as their very first car ride together; the place where he woke up three years earlier. The strange cave on the riverbank. Abbie didn’t like the amount of water this time and her claws tightened on Crane’s shirt and chest as she started to panic a bit. He cursed under his breath and sweet-talked her again, asking her to lodge her claws into his blue coat instead. She was reluctant; she liked that coat and preferred to mark his skin instead. His skin would heal and also mark him as hers. But not even as a cat was she truly able to refuse him anything. She perched on his shoulder as he had to do all the carrying over the shallow ford next to the waterfall. He had to cross it twice, and while he told her to wait for him at the other side, she insisted on going back and forth once more. Partly to annoy him a bit and partly to remind him that she did what she wanted, afraid or not afraid.

They made it into the cave with all of the stuff and Crane set up a make-shift altar on a slab of stone, laying the tablecloth on it, putting up candles and decorating with fruits, vegetables, candles and the sickle, some old bones from the Archives, dried leaves and twigs of rosemary. Everything to symbol life and death, the end of an old year and the beginning of a new one. He lit the candles and asked Abbie to stay away from them, knowing how fascinated her cat instincts were of the dancing flames. He also brought a small ceramic cup that he had brought and placed it in front of it all.

Abbie scurried around and sniffed things; as a cat she perceived things quite differently than as a human. As a partly magical cat, she picked up on some other things. Residue magic, for instance. The remains of Crane’s grave was still there, the markings on the ground and shattered glass from mason jars. Frogs still liked it there and croaked at her. She hissed at them at first.

“Easy there, Lieutenant!” Crane begged her. “And watch out for the glass!”

There were some writing at the top of the grave. Abbie could perceive that they were made as a last gesture before the grave was left in 1781. By… a witch. By _her_ , the former wife. Abbie hissed and spluttered again, attacking the symbols. Crane came over to see what was going on. He kneeled next to her, frowned and read what it said.

“Mors nos separaverit…” he read. Abbie had studied enough Latin to recognise the phrase. “Death do us part,” he translated in a flat voice. He looked at Abbie. “It’s written by Katrina, isn’t it?” he asked without sounding concerned. Abbie meowed. “I guess she had already made up her mind by then,” he simply said and shrugged. Abbie still head butted his arm, feeling concerned. Crane took her up on his chest again, cuddling her.

“It’s in the past, my dear Lieutenant,” he assured her. “And a mere inconvenience like death has never been able to separate _us_ , has it? No, indeed. Remember: the bible ‘ships’ us, as Miss Jenny would say. I quite ‘ship’ us as well.”

Abbie purred and licked his moustache.

“Mmm, quite so,” Crane agreed and kissed the top of her head again. “Now; are we ready to perform this little ceremony?”

Returning to the make-shift altar, Abbie saw that he had put things in a certain order. It worried her that it made an upside down pentagram, but the pointy end symbolised spirit. That was them. To the left stood the ceramic cup, and Crane poured some cider in it, symbolising water. To the right were some dried leaves, for air. The points above them had lit candles for fire and some root vegetables for earth.

“I sincerely hope I have gotten this right,” Crane mumbled. “I want it to be respectful. But it is also the most important supernatural ceremony I have ever attempted.”

Abbie put her paw on the pointy end closest to them, indicating that she understood why things were prepared as they were.

“Indeed, Lieutenant: spirit. Your spirit. And mine.”

He kneeled in front of the altar and she jumped up in his lap, as was their custom by now.

“I will need to burn some rosemary in the fire. We both need to drink some of the cider from the cup, I hope your palate with accept a sip of it, Lieutenant. I will say a Celtic incantation from the book you pointed out. Afterwards, we must destroy everything and submit it in the river, as an offering.”

She purred in understanding.

They began the ceremony. While chanting in an ancient Celtic language, Crane slowly burnt some rosemary and the scent filled the cave. Abbie enjoyed listening to him chanting, it greatly reminded her of when he had talked in Middle English to the boy Thomas and in the magical Roanoke. They had only just met then. He lifted the ceramic cup and offered her a sip. Her cat taste buds didn’t really appreciate the taste, but she dutifully sipped. Crane took a sip as well before he put the cup down. Then he placed his hand where the pointy end for spirit was, and she placed her paw on top. She wondered if this was included in the instructions, or if they just knew.

A slow gust of wind surrounded them. There was definitely magic in the air. Crane said the chant and Abbie purred. The flames of the candles danced and the leaves lifted a little. There was a little shake in the ground and the walls surrounding them. It was as if the light changed and it got darker around them, but a deep, warm light glowed from the altar and on them. Instinct told Abbie to jump into the middle of the pentagram, so she did. Crane startled, but kept chanting. She could sense that he was afraid; she felt his fear of losing her forever and the pain was strong. But she sat down and placed her paw on his hand again. She purred and slowly blinked at him. This was right, she could feel it.

The chant ended, and the wind and the change of the light faded. The ceremony was over. Abbie still sat on the altar. Nothing happened.

“We… need to destroy the offerings, remember?” Crane said but sounded unsure.

While Crane could use some stones to smash up the produce, the candles and everything else included in the ceremony, Abbie could at least help with tearing up the dried leaves and make rifts in the tablecloth. Gathering it all together and grabbing her bag of clothes that she still had no use for, Crane went out of the cave with Abbie once again on his shoulders. On the other side of the river was a little shore where they could walk to find a deeper stream where they submitted the remains of the ceremony. Crane said the chant again, just in case. Abbie stood next to him on the riverbank, staring down into the flowing water.

Nothing happened.


	3. Divided Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the ceremony. ANGSTY. Some tears. Mentions the death of a beloved character that I refuse to acknowledge as canon. Angry cat behaviour. Scratches, blood and attention to wounds. Reference to a useless, whispering witch. Also, enough fluff to give you tooth-ache. Mawkish sweetness. 
> 
> I hadn't expected to put my own angst regarding this OTP into the story of Abbie as a cat. But there you go. The muse wants what the muse wants.

At first, neither spoke on the way home. Or rather; Crane said nothing and Abbie didn’t meow. They were both disappointed, there was no denying it. Abbie simply curled up on the passenger’s seat while Crane drove, letting his fidgety fingers speak for him. After about half the way, Abbie crawled up in his lap and began to purr, slowly pawing his thigh. Crane sighed heavily and began scratching her head.

“I probably did something wrong. I will get new things tomorrow. Halloween isn’t really over, surely? There might still be time!”

Abbie made a reassuring sound.

“I probably said it wrong! Remember The Kindred? Yes, of course you do. I needed to do that incantation twice. Yes.”

Abbie could only repeat her sound and claw his leg rhythmically, she had no other way of reassuring him.

“Maybe cider was the wrong choice after all? I should look for water in some well instead.”

He was silent for several minutes.

“I am so sorry I failed you, Lieutenant,” he finally mumbled despondently.

Abbie sat up and wailed in protest.

“But you deserved more from me!” he insisted. “It should have worked! Perhaps… Perhaps I’m not worthy to do the ceremony.”

Abbie yowled.

“No, it should have been Miss Jenny. Or… someone else. Someone – ouch!”

Abbie had growled and scratched his hand lightly. Luckily, he was alone on the road.

“But… Abbie,” he said and actually sobbed.

Abbie, who was battling with her own deep disappointment, could only nuzzle his face.

They came home, and he carried everything including Abbie inside. Once there, he took off his coat and boots and went to the small kitchen. He poured Abbie some milk in a saucer for her to drink next to him on the countertop, and a rum for himself. Abbie made a ‘mrrp’ at him, worried about him drinking when he was sad, but had her milk, making lapping sounds while Crane downed his rum in one go and grabbed the bottle again. Abbie looked up from the saucer and protested with a loud ‘MEOW!!’

“What, Lieutenant?” he asked glumly. “Surely you don’t want some rum in your milk?”

“MEOW!!” she repeated her protest at the idea.

 “Very well,” he sighed and didn’t pour another.

When Abbie was finished, he held out his arms to her and she jumped up in his embrace, but the scent of rum on his breath made her push his head away from her with both her front paws. He snorted while swiping the milk off her whiskers, went into the bedroom with her, lied down and stretched out on the bed – their bed, in her mind. For a long while, they were just lying there, Crane stared up at the ceiling, while Abbie had curled up in the crook of his arm. She purred, but swatted his beard worriedly when she saw tears in his eyes again. He turned his head and looked into her gleaming cat eyes. His breath didn’t smell so much of rum anymore, and right now she didn’t care about that.

“There were so many things that I left unsaid,” he mumbled and pulled her up against his chest. “So often I wanted to tell you… but I decided to spare you. You had to deal with so much… and me. Or perhaps I spared myself, for fear of rejection. I could have left again if you wanted, but I honestly couldn’t imagine being parted from you again.” His voice was unsteady, but he talked on, while stroking her back slowly. “But I lost you anyway… I know I _can_ survive on my own in this modern world. Without you. I have done it twice now. There’s nothing to prove. But… It’s not a life. Not at all. It’s all emptiness. There’s just no real joy without you. Even now, in this moment of complete disappointment, I can still rejoice in the fact that you are _here_ , in a different form. But not in the form you are meant to be, or want to be.”

Abbie had never wanted more to be human again, to be able to use her voice, to calm him. To tell _him_ it was going to be alright. She made a series of squeaky cat noises and let her head stroke his chin. His hand was heavy and warm on her small body.

He cupped his large hands around her small cat head and beheld her pointy face looking down on him.

“Never ready to give up, are you?” he whispered, as a single tear rolled from his left eye. “And yet… You were so ready to go… Or so you said, that day. That horrible day. On the porch. Do you remember? Or was it all just a trick?”

She regarded him solemnly, and she remembered. But had it been a trick on them both? That horrible pain she had experienced from having her soul torn apart when the box first made an attempt to drag her in against her will – it was still unbearable to think of. Inexplicable on how that had impaired her normally so sound reason. As if the box took all her hope and left her with only her doubt and fear. She had fought so hard against the two latter. She had often fought against hope as well, because hope hurt. She had been battle weary that last time, in the Catacombs. Her soul had indeed been drained and exhausted. But Crane had always been there for her, he had come through those last months. Yet, her fears and doubts had remained. Her mind had been befuddled and made her make choices she regretted.

Her decision to make her sacrifice that day… No, there could have been another way. There was always another way. She got a feeling that she had argued this in the realm where she had ended up, after that dreadful day.

“When you… left… got… pulled in… into that… horrible box. Oh God, no I can’t talk about it!” he sobbed and lost the fight against the tears. Closing his eyes hard, he was fighting with his breathy sobs that racked his gaunt frame. She could feel his ribs as she nearly wobbled off his broad chest. She crawled further up and yowled pitifully as she began to lick away his tears.

“We didn’t even have your body, Lieutenant!” he wailed while his body shivered. “Your grave – all empty!”

Abbie was baffled by that, she hadn’t even known and it upset her.

“I thought, perhaps, that it could make it easier for you, once you were back in human form, because of that! We could have explained that you had been lost. But I failed you. I always fail you!”

He didn’t always fail her. But yes, he had failed her often enough, and thoroughly when he did so. She was every bit as sad as him, but he wallowed in his tears. She didn’t come back for that, surely. But she let him cry it out, while she did what she could to drape herself over him in an effort to hug it out of him. After a while, his sobs subsided and he looked at her again.

“I thought, perhaps, that you had grown so weary of everything that death… was what you wanted,” he managed to choke out. “But that is not… the Lieutenant I know.”

He was right. It had seemed like the only way then. As it might have for her mother, once. But she wasn’t her mother. And she hadn’t been whole in that moment when Pandora had in one go told her ‘you know what you have to do’. No; it had been a trick. And her soul had been split, as if the box had been a cruel Horcrux in a poor man’s Potterverse.

She yowled meekly again, agreeing with him.

“You didn’t really want that, did you?”

 _What is even real anymore_ , she thought. What was it that she really wanted then and wanted now? Go back to how it were? Sit in a diner with Corbin? She had gotten that back in the afterlife, yes. But it was just three fucking years too late. Life moved on, _she_ had moved on.

“You came back,” he concluded and gave a weak laugh that was close to a sob.

Yes, her spirit had demanded it. After a time of healing of her soul on the other side, her indomitable spirit had demanded a rematch on life. A chance to set things right. A new chance with her fellow Witness. Her fellow Witness was still crying, slow tears falling from his eyes. Abbie sat up, she couldn’t catch all those tears.

“Did you actually want to leave? I mean… I understand that being a Witness was weighing upon you. _I_ know that. You cannot deny that _I know_. I wanted away from it once… and I understand that you did. But like that?”

_As if you couldn’t have been lying dead in a ditch somewhere in Europe for all I knew!_

Abbie hissed at him.

“I know… I know. But… I came back. So did you. I never really wanted to leave you. Did you really want to leave me?”

_Damn you, Crane. You know I didn’t._

“Did you come back because you wanted to?”

She yowled at him. His word hurt her. She started to move away a bit from him.

“No – please don’t go, Lieutenant!” he pleaded and his arm snaked out to pull her closer again. She struggled and scratched him, something she had only done when he had tried to wash her dirty paws once. “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed and relaxed his arm. She didn’t jump off the bed but sat there and gave him quite the evil eye. Crane clutched his hand over the place she had scratched.

“I am sorry,” he said again. “I know I’ve hurt you. Not been there for you like I should have. Stayed silent about things I should have said.”

She made a huffing sound. He held forward his arm again, sporting angry, red scratches.

“You let me off too easy then,” he said. “So please: if you were angry with me then and still are angry with me now – scratch me again.”

She growled and her beautiful eyes became angry slits. She hesitated, paw in the air. He merely looked at her, waiting. What good would it do her that she inflicted pain on him? It was one thing when emotions grew too strong and her instincts took over, like moments ago. Same when she cuddled close to him and let her pink little tongue taste him. She knew very well where those feelings came from, didn’t she? Did they have to be addressed? Did everything _have_ to be turned inside out? Did every fucking emotion in him have to be addressed, even if they were a reaction to _her_ life and death?

Angry again, she growled deeply and quickly smashed his arm with more claws than she intended to, sputtering and hissing furiously. He cried out and there was blood on his arm. Wincing, he grabbed the wound and cradled the arm close to him. Then, of course, came the wretched guilt. She meowed in that irritatingly meek way that she produced when she was worried about him. Jumping over him, marching back and forth along his prone body on the bed, she kept meowing with concern, trying to tell him that he needed to go to the bathroom to clean it and put on band-aid.

“Yes, I know,” he sobbed and chuckled at once.

He went to the bathroom and she was right at his heels, jumping up on the toilet next to the sink and trying to come closer. She made sure he took good care of himself, almost pushing the tube of Neosporin down from the cabinet. He gave her sidelong glances as he cleaned and dressed the wounds. She meowed apologetically.

“No need, Lieutenant,” he said with resignation. “I ‘had it coming’ as you might say, if you could talk…”

At that, she head butted his arm and nuzzled her head against the fabric on the old-fashioned shirt.

“I’m going back to bed,” he finally said dully. He said nothing further and didn't invite her to be carried back into the bedroom. He probably meant that he didn't want to force her, but it still gave Abbie a pang in the heart as she watched him walking her by and leaving the door open for her to do as she wished. He turned off the lights but lit up the lamp on his nightstand and opened the window a little bit, in case she wanted to go out during the night. Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Abbie the cat sat on the mat.

Abbie was disappointed in the lack of effect from the ceremony, yes. But unlike Crane, she was still hopeful. Something had happened in the cave, at the ceremony, Abbie had felt it. What was it? Also, she worried about Crane. She had of course understood that her death had hit him hard – she wasn't trying to hide to him that she was pleased about that, even as a cat. Her instincts as a cat were straight-forward. She wanted, so she took. She loved, so she showed it. She got pampered, so she enjoyed it. She hated, so she hissed and scratched.

Abbie as a human? Well, Crane had almost instantly found out about Jenny and done his outmost to make sure that they were united. It was one of the most important things he had done for her: broken through her shields. Put into words what she needed and wanted. Proved to her that she loved Jenny. Made sure they worked out their differences. Selflessly.

Selflessly herself, she had made sure that Crane had everything he needed. Done her outmost to help him get _his_ family back. The complete failure of that hadn’t been her fault, even if she felt a niggling guilt. Because she didn’t want to fail. But she wanted the Crane family experiment to fail. And not just because of the threat of the Apocalypse. She wanted to be the one who succeeded in making Crane happy and fulfilled.

There: at least Abbie the cat could admit to it.

Abbie the human didn’t need Crane. Didn’t want him. Didn’t love him. Or so she had told herself on various occasions. He was a friend and her partner, yes. Her fellow Witness, foretold by the Bible, no less. But that was all. As if it was just another school mate.

_Holy crap, Abbie. Definitely so much crap that you tried to make holy._

Abbie the cat still sat on the mat. That was an absolute truth. Abbie jumped off the mat and out of the bathroom.

Crane was lying on the bed again, back against the bathroom door and facing the window. Abbie jumped up behind him and head butted his back, purring and rubbing against him. She felt him relax and saw over his back that his hand twitched. She jumped over to the other side of him and he scratched her behind the ear. She loved his ear scratches, made various cat sounds of pleasure and carefully tried to step closer to him if he wanted her to. He hesitated, then made room for her between his arms and chest. Gratefully, she settled down there.

“If this spell works, Lieutenant – what if it means that you will be leaving me? What if ‘the spirit of a beloved that has entered into familiar form can be called back’ means being called back to the other side? What if you’re trapped here, and you need me to help you return your spirit to… another place?”

Abbie hadn’t considered that. It made sense, she supposed, but it didn’t make sense that she had come back to him for _that_ purpose. Was she just a cat to show him that her spirit was still around? Still connected to his? They knew that! What cruel force brought her to him in this form, if it wasn’t so they could be together? Oh, there were many cruel forces – they knew that better than anyone! But this? Using them like this? No.

“Meeeoow,” she screeched in objection and rubbed her head against the palm of his large hand.

“No?” he asked her. “You don’t think so? I am at a loss, I confess. You know more of this than I do. All I know is…”

He hesitated. And kept hesitating. That wasn’t like him. She looked up at him, purring calmly.

_I already know, Crane. Say it._

She had fought enough against hearing him say it. Enough was enough. She had come to be with him, and that was what she had faith in.

“I love you, Abbie…”

She could only squeak in response and rub his hand, encouraging him. She wasn’t going to stop him saying it, ever again.

“I mean – I should have told you that so many times. You know I wanted to. I… know that you wanted me to… not tell you. But I do, Abbie. I love you.”

She saw his beautiful eyes tear up again. She let her tiny nose lightly bob against his face. Her rugged, pink tongue worked hard to catch his tears. It probably tickled and he chuckled. He stroke her back slowly. He leaned his head in his other hand, resting on his elbow.

“At least you’re not trying to stop me from saying it. That’s… a new. I won’t stop you if you want to leave. For now. For the night. Forever. It’s not my right, and it’s certainly not in my power. But Abbie; my soul will always cry out for yours. I need you to know this. It has been my greatest regret since you… left. That I never told you that I love you.”

It had been her regret as well. She had wanted and needed to hear it. The soul of human Abbie had screamed after it. But the almost inhuman denial of human Abbie had forever fought against the truth.

Abbie the cat knew better. Abbie the cat wanted Crane. Abbie the cat would hiss at something written by a witch by his grave. Abbie the cat would gladly have scratched every available part of skin on said witch and clawed on the scalp of her son. Abbie the cat would have taken any kind of power to be with _Crane_. Not that he particularly deserved it. Not because it was foretold, or destiny. Just because she wanted to, wanted him. Needed him, loved him.

_I love you too, Crane._

For a long while, they lay there side by side. He was stroking her, she purred in satisfaction, and he declared his love for her in all those ways he had wanted to for so long. In broken mumbles, in flowering poetry, in long rants with flashes of jealousy, in a serenade that his baritone rumbled against her cat head while she tried to wail in response; their worst duet ever – and in the most heartfelt, straight-forward manner his verbose talent could accomplish. Abbie basked in his attention. Her spirit soared.

He talked them both to sleep, in the end. When Abbie woke up, she knew life was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter after this, and that's it. I started this as a G-rated one-shot, it's gone up to T and more chapters. It's a fair assumption that it will end up as at least M-rated. Just so you know.


	4. Spirited, part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the last chapter. I was wrong. At least one more, then an epilogue. Ooops. Fandom and Ichabbie made me do it. 
> 
> Confessions, fluff and teasing in this chapter. M-rated. More to come, I promise! Shinysparks is my witness! Oh, thanks for the beta, by the way! ;)

She was heavy on his shoulder and that usually harsh little cat tongue felt oh, so soft as it licked his neck. His eyes scrunched together as a warm wave of affection ran through his body.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he mumbled to her, eyes still closed but smiling. She had rarely licked him so much and he loved it when she did.

He let his hand stroke her curls... so rich was the texture in his palm, almost resonant like a chord. Strands of it tickled his nose, and he pulled her closer, diving into it. He smiled as he felt the surprising contrast when his hand moved along her back. So soft. So like the velvet fur, but now like cool silk. The feel of her long leg draped over his thigh felt so right.

“Mmmm...” It was a sigh of pleasure slipping out of him.

“Mmmmmm...” she responded with her deep voice as her warm lips pecked against his neck, and he felt the rush of air against his skin. She had moved his shirt aside and let her lips move further, along his collarbone.

He reciprocated by letting his hand move lower... and lower still. Ah, yes. As if he could actually see her, like his eidetic memory could, he knew that slope of her waist just above the perfect curve of her hip – the most beautiful thing he had ever known. He could just try to imagine her exquisite skin right now, and it was no secret that he had so many, many times. Dark golden, silken and just as smooth as his hand could feel.

Skin?

His eyes flew open. Agape, he turned his head and met her eyes; still so dark and alluring, but now... now they were decidedly human. Her smile widened to a huge, happy grin that bedazzled him. He could only stare.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“I am... awake?” he said with a wavering voice.

She giggled. The way she looked at him was a miracle. The feel of her solid, human body in his arms was a miracle.

“Crane, this is real. It’s me. We made it, again,” she almost purred.

It was her. He knew that. Really her, so very real. Too moved to form any words, he simply pulled her closer to him, in a tight, hard hug. His face was once more hidden in her bountiful, natural curls and he felt them wiping against his teary eyes. She pressed herself against him and wriggled so she was almost on top of him. Her small hands caressed his beard and felt his tears.

“Hey...” she whispered again. “It’s alright, Crane. It’s alright, baby...” and her soft lips kissed away those tears. She lifted her head and gazed down on him.

He was surrounded by her flowing hair and the tender look in her eyes made his head swim. Her dainty hand stroke strands of hair out of his eyes, and followed the line of his temples, caressing its way down to his beard again.

“Abbie...” was all he feebly managed to say, but inside him a storm of love and desire was brewing. He saw a quick flash of her smile before she firmly kissed him.

“Oomph!” he went before his hands flew up to cup her head. He angled his head and replied with such ardour that he could feel her go weak and whimpering against him.

She broke the kiss and stared down on him; both of them breathless and overwhelmed.

“I must say something!” she stressed eagerly. “Now, I must tell you now –” Her eyes grew wide as she inhaled.

“I love you, Ichabod Crane. You hear me? I love you!”

He heard her. His brain would never forget, but it couldn’t make sense of anything at that very moment. His mind was swimming in some heavenly realm, let loose by amazement and joy. He merely stared up at her.

“Crane?” she asked worriedly and gave him a new, quick kiss. “Do you hear me, baby? Do you understand? I love you. All six feet one of you, all hair and hands!” She grinned again. “And head,” she added. “Even if it might have gone completely blank at the moment.” Once more, she tenderly caressed his face.

His hands slowly moved down her back. He was gobsmacked, pinned to the bed by her small, strong body. Still grounded in reality, thanks to her. Utterly set free in mind, also thanks to her.

“You love me,” he blurted out, probably looking as amazed as he felt.

“I love you,” she assured him ardently.

He pulled her close again, initiating a kiss that she eagerly responded to. Encircling her in his embrace, he let his tongue meet hers, and it swept around his in a manner that made him wild. Still mindlessly happy and with an arousal quickly spreading within him, he rolled her over on her back and poured all the love and longing into the kiss. Her moan vibrated back into him, he felt her arms closing around his neck and her fingers in his hair.

“Mmm, Lieutenant...” he mumbled with his lips against hers. “My beloved, my treasure...” he whispered in a shaky voice, letting his lips caress her cheek. “I love you so completely, I am yours, Abbie – more than I have ever been my own or even God’s Witness by your side. I do not care if it is blasphemy or if any of my actions goes against what is right,” he went on. “If I can be by your side, then that is all that matters.”

She smiled to him mischievously, but was clearly moved by his declaration. “And love me?” she asked.

“And love you,” he said. “Like you love me.”

“I do. I love you,” she replied. She looked ravishing as she reclined against the pillows, hair around her like a halo, all softness and with eyes shining.

He would never get tired of saying how he loved her, or hear her saying it. That had been the magic they needed, so much he realised. The final confession, the last layer of self-deception scaled off until their hearts had been opened and exposed.

She pulled him close and the wonder of her soft, pliant body was almost too much. He groaned into the kiss and his hand marvelled at the feel of her skin against his palm as it travelled down her side and cupping her rounded hip. Eyes still closed, he could still imagine her lines, her –

Once more, his eyes flew open and he broke the kiss. He was staring down on her baffled face.

“Why-why d’you stop –” she began.

“Miss Mills!” he broke in, scandalised.

“Ohh no, don’t you _dare_ ‘Miss Mills’ me, Ichabod Crane, not now, when –”

“You are – NAKED, Miss Mills!”

“Oh, gee, sorry about that,” she said sarcastically and smirked.

He gasped, still hovering over her. But he was fully registering details now. Her smooth skin that he had felt on her back, arms, hip and... how she pressed against him right now. That was her breasts and nipples he felt against his chest. That was one of her perfect legs that were slung over his thigh. All of it, all of _her_ ; naked and on display under him, even if his eyes still hadn’t seen those details of her. It was his undoing. His jaw went slack.

She used it mercilessly and swung him on his back, straddling him. He shut his eyes quickly. How on earth would he be able to control himself, unless he did? He was already hard, twitching to grow ever harder, as his senses registered what his dazzled mind fought to make sense of.

It didn’t make things easier that his hands were spanning her waist, just at that alluring curve on top of her hips. His gaping mouth drew quick breaths. His senses could never close her out. Even his closed eyes couldn’t stop his brain from helpfully supplying images of what she might look like in her human, naked form. The real Abbie. The Abbie who loved him. Even her gasps and breathless chuckle was enough to defeat him.

“Crane...” she said in her most melodious voice as her hands took the liberty to move over the front of his shirt, feeling him trembling. Her hand lightly touched the band aids he had put on last night, after she had scratched him in her cat form. “I’m still sorry about that,” she mumbled. He just had to smile. She slowly moved on top of him, just above his groin, and the warmth of her core nearly burned him through the shirt.

“Ichabod,” she said pleadingly. “I want you to see me. Don’t you want that too?”

“God in heaven, yes I do,” he replied and carefully opened his eyes, staring up on the ceiling.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

He slowly lowered his eyes to meet hers, still looking deeply into her eyes. Mercy, she was so beautiful. Her features, that soft expression that seemed reserved for him – she ruled him with her eyes alone. Her smile gave him courage to defeat the impossible. Her hands could still his every resentment and lead him like a tamed beast.

“Are you sure, Abbie?” he had to ask before he completely drowned in her eyes and did what they beckoned him to do. “I will do anything you ask of me. Take what you will from me. I was ever willing to go into battle with you, to die by your side. The fact that I was even _more_ willing to give myself to you, body and soul, was something I fought against admitting to myself.”

“That’s just it – it was always the same for me,” she replied and once more caressed his face. He cupped her hand and kissed her palm reverently.

“I always wanted you, Crane... By my side, as my partner... and as my lover. I was angry with you, with myself, with everything basically. Last night, when you asked me why I came back, I finally gave in. I can fight any demon or devil with you. But I’m done fighting against myself or you. That’s the fight that kills us. No more of that. We’re meant to be.”

He stared at her, once again muted by the miracle that was her.

“Maybe I had to become a critter of instinct to understand that,” she smiled wryly. “Now, I won’t go beating around the bush when I want to show you how I feel. We wasted too much time on that. But it’ll all be worth it, if you want me.”

“I do. I want you with my whole being, as I’m sure you know.”

“Then look at me.”


	5. Spitited, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A consumated relationship. Watch the header for updates in rating and tags. 2017-03-02: nsfw moodboard added at the end.
> 
> The plot so far: It's still Halloween. Abbie is not a cat. She's also naked. Crane isn't. Not yet. 
> 
> This is long, and from Crane's point of view. He thinks too much, but he's not alone in that. Also, they have a lot to talk about, finally. Apart from that, this is all about Ichabbie getting it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember this Halloween fic, that had Abbie returning to Crane as a cat? And then, they managed to get her back in body? And then I foolishly promised to write a last chapter where it's smut and happiness. Here it is! Three months, a horrible election that wasn't even in my country, Christmas, illness and a winter later. Even too late for Valentine's day. But in their world, it's still Halloween. 
> 
> Ichabbie forever! There is nothing else that matters about that show.
> 
> Thank you, Shinysparks, for putting up with me and my rants. Thank you, fandom, for being so absolutely wonderful. <3

Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked down on her lips that he had just kissed. Finally, he had felt their softness and the sweet wonder that was her tongue. As if she could hear his musings, she stuck her long, pointy tongue out on the side of her mouth while grinning teasingly. He groaned in frustration; she had done that a few times when inebriated, and it had always unsettled him. She bit her lower lip in anticipation as his hands started to roam over her hips and down on her thighs. It made her sigh and close her eyes. Slowly, she bent her head back and he had a full view of her graceful neck. Grace; never had a woman been more aptly named.  

There was no going back from then on. His eyes caressed her every shape; from the roundness of her pert breasts, down the slope of her stomach, and lifting his head to see her mound of Venus, hidden under dark, alluring curls. She raised herself slightly on those shapely legs and he could see the roseate cleft within. His mouth was watering and he had to lick his lips. She took his hand and led it there. He was too shocked to react until his fingers felt the hot dampness of her core. He gasped and turned his hand up, fingers slipping inside of her as she moaned his name. She lightly gyrated those glorious hips and he met her eyes just as she let out a whimpering sigh. Her eyes were hooded, shining with desire. His cock twitched so hard that it hurt and she yelped as she felt it bump against her arse.  

Before he could react, she bent over him and kissed him. Crane gratefully embraced her naked form, letting his hands explore her eagerly along her back and down to her magnificent backside, cupping their round shapes that were just so perfect in his hands. He wanted to see them too, oh Lord, did he ever! He bent his legs, grabbing her lightly so that her sex bumped against his straining erection that tented his breeches. She moaned in surprise into his mouth, and then the sound got deeper and satisfied, as she felt his impressive length against her sex. He moaned heatedly back, probing her mouth and begging her tongue to respond. She nibbled his bottom lip, then let her tongue met his, and he felt as if they fell off a cliff together.  

Once again, he rolled them both over and began to eagerly explore her with his lips. Her fingers played with his hair and grabbed hold whenever he found a particular, sensitive spot.  

“More, Crane, yes, more…” she moaned. “Touch me, I need your hands on my body…”  

Wildly, he kissed her; he zealously tasted her skin with both mouth and hands. Cupping her breasts, he squeezed them together, and she mewled when his lips closed around one nipple, while his fingers played with the other, then alternated. Her hard peaks actually tickled his fingertips and tongue.  

He looked up for a moment and kissed her lips again.  

“One year ago…” he mumbled and grinned.  

“What…?” she inquired. 

“Last Halloween – I wanted to do just this,” he explained and lavished her breasts with kisses again to make his point clear. “My Queen!” he groaned.  

She began to laugh and vibrated under him. Then her laugh turned into deep moans again, as Crane doubled his efforts.  

“How I wanted to fall at your feet that very night, at the mere sight of you…” he mumbled as she drew him close for another round of kisses. 

“Why did you dress up as John Adams?” she mumbled. “No one dressing up like him has ever looker less like the second president.” 

“True,” he breathed against her skin. “But he had the good fortune of being married to an amazing woman called Abigail!” 

Abbie laughed happily and pulled at his shirt, making their lips meet again. 

It was like all his five senses, along with some more that weren’t even identified yet, were lit on fire. Her legs closed around his torso, tugging him closer as she bucked against him and groaned without abandon. His free hand moved down and up one leg again, now groping her arse shamelessly. 

Pleasure, both dark and light, filled his mind even further. There had been years of fantasies, so many of them at importune moments that had given him some shame and guilt. Tinted with that was the last months’ intense grief over losing her and never telling her what he felt. The here and now was a powerful bliss, but also bittersweet. Who knew what awaited them tomorrow? They had always been doomed, and now they had more than ever to lose.  

“Never leave me,” he begged against her skin and looked up at her. She was a vision in her pleasure, her gleaming, dark eyes turned from joy to solemnity as she looked back at him.  

“I haven’t come here to leave you, baby, not ever again,” she murmured and cupped his head. “It was all wrong. Now that I know that you love me, I also know that our spirits won’t be parted – can’t be parted. Remember what you prophesied, Ichabod? We shall be victorious or defeated together. Come what may.”  

“Come what may,” he replied and glided up to kiss her lips again. He took his time tasting their plumpness and exploring her mouth. Breaking apart, her sinful tongue stuck out to lick his moist lips. He gasped at the sight, hovering an inch above her. Diving back in, he concentrated on her neck, and her delighted cries while she cupped his head in her arms, made him growl. He was just where he was always meant to be.  

“Seems I’m not alone in being an animal at times,” she purred in a human fashion. He growled back against her skin in response. “Only thing is…” she started.  

Crane resurfaced, looking tousled and dazed. “What, my Treasure?” he mumbled considerately. “I haven’t even taken a moment to ask how you feel, now that you’re back in your human form.”  

“Treasure…? I like that, baby,” she said fondly and stroke his hair sticking up. “And I do feel… absolutely, fucking wonderful!” she chuckled. “You’d better not laugh, but…” she began but smiled herself. 

“What, my darling Treasure?” Crane asked for emphasis.  

“Well, the fact is… I feel tall!”  

Crane dropped his jaw, then grinned. He hid his face in her bosom, kissing her there as he started to chuckle.  

“Hey!” she giggled and tried to be affronted, tousling his hair again.  

He leaned on his elbow and absolutely laughed; a laugh of relief coming from the depth of him. He couldn’t remember laughing like that since… In fact, at this moment, all he could remember was her. How she made him feel. How happy he was.  

“I told you –” Abbie gasped between her own laughter attacks. “I told you not to…”  

He kissed her again, soundly. “But you _are_ tall, Lieutenant. Taller than both life and death!” he mumbled against her lips.  

“Good for you that you have such a way with words, Captain!” she mumbled back.  

“Also,” he said teasingly, “Your human form is _slightly_ taller than you feline form – WOAH!”  

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before she had swung him on his back again. Sitting on top of him in all her naked glory didn’t make him feel less defeated.  

“I’m warning you, Ichabod Crane!” she threatened him smilingly.  

“I love you, Grace Abigail Mills,” he replied dreamily.  

Her expression softened into that impossibly tender expression that always turned his heart upside down. And now, he didn’t have to hide his happiness over it.  

“Pray tell me what I can do for you, my beloved Lieutenant?” he begged her. “Anything in my power.” 

“Everything _is_ in your power, Crane,” was her adoring reply, and he could tell that she meant it. She had that faith in him. “You know, I would _really_ like to take a shower!”  

Her unexpected wish made his eyebrows rise. “Oh… of course! Uh –” 

“With you,” she added.  

“Ah, you require my assistance! I am happy to be –” 

“ _In_ the shower with me. Naked, like me,” she clarified.  

For some moments, he tried to get some words out, but failed.  

“Because I haven’t had a shower in ages. And _you_ , Captain Crane, are way too overdressed,” she finished and pulled at the strings of his shirt.  

Hearing her call him Captain repeatedly at a moment like this did a good deal to return him to his senses – and make his libido spiral up even further. With a renewed growl, he pulled her up in his embrace. She yelped and stared at him in wonder as he swept them off the bed. The next moment, he was standing on the floor, carrying her with her arms and legs slung around his lanky body. His hands were lodged under her marvellous bottom and he kissed her surprised mouth again.  

“Your wish is my command, despite you pointing out my grade, my loveliest Lieutenant, my Abbie…” he said between the kisses, as he carried her the few steps to the bathroom door.  

It was Abbie who fumblingly got it to open and Crane who resolutely slammed it again once they were inside, leaning her against the door and still kissing her. Her hands found the strings of his shirt again, less fumbling now, and pulled at the fabric, getting it up from his breeches. He moaned into her mouth, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as he was so hard that the manoeuvre hurt. And yet, he needed it. He took her hand and guided her there, and she eagerly cupped him and let her small hand stroke his impressive length. Her touch was both soothe and ache. She gasped into his mouth.  

“Oh my, Captain…” she murmured with clear anticipation in her voice. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the throes of pleasure that the simple touch of her hand produced. Scrunching his eyes together and groaning again, he kissed her hard but carefully lowered her to stand on the floor.  

“Please!” he breathed into her hair as he began to wring his shirt off. Her hands got busy with the buttons at his waist. She gave him leeway to get the shirt off and smiled wickedly at the sight of his naked torso, just as her hand enclosed less than half of his twitching cock, as his breeches fell to the bathroom floor. Abbie stared at his impressive erection, then up at him.  

“Yup, no false advertisement there!” she mumbled.  

He swooped her up for a new round of kissing, finally pressing her naked body to his and lodging his cock against her soft stomach. Both of them groaned at the sensation and he nearly lifted her off the floor again. 

“Damnit, Crane! Get those silly socks off!” she demanded when she broke free. Letting go of her a little, he looked down on his legs, covered all up to his knees.  

“Admit it, you cannot wait to have a look at my well-formed calves!” he teased while he quickly took them off. 

“Yeah, right – women of the 21st century totally go wild for men’s calves,” she teased back but still had an eye full.  

“This is indeed a most awful intercourse,” he chuckled and let one hand caress her hip and up to her breast.  

“Shut up,” she said hoarsely and kissed him, then pushed him towards the shower. 

“Ladies first,” he insisted and pushed her by, gladly letting her rub against him as she passed him. Finally having a look down her back, he took the liberty to smack her lightly on the perfect roundness of her left cheek. 

“Crane!” she yelled delightedly and pulled him to her in the shower. She turned her back to him, fiddling to get the water running. Meanwhile, Crane reached for a drawer outside the shower and pulled out her favourite shower cap; a purple with hearts in darker, purple nuances. She stared at it, then at him. He blushed over almost his whole body. 

“In case you don’t want to do your hair washing routine?” 

She just smiled that disarming smile and let him help her put the cap on, kissing him gratefully afterwards.  

“You’re adorable,” he smiled as she made a cute grimace at him. 

“ _You_ win at that today; you even saved my favourite shower cap!” she gushed. 

“Not at all!” he protested, and then showed that he had her favourite soap as well, making her squeal and kiss him.  

She turned back to get the water running and Crane quickly encircled her from behind, letting his hands run over her body, cupping her breasts and kissing her exposed neck. 

“Aaaahh...” Abbie moaned. “You know how to distract a girl.”  

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he murmured as his hand moved lower; it made her chuckle.  

Crane carefully manoeuvred a finger over her folds and pushed his erection lightly against her back, shamelessly enjoying the feeling of her arse against his aching balls. The water started running and they flinched at first, before the water was temperate.  

Abbie poured some of the soap into her palms, lathering them both with his help, and for a while they slowly and caressingly washed one another, kissing headily as the rich scent of vanilla and jasmine surrounded them. They rinsed and he turned her around again, washing off her back. Then she sighed as he started kissing her there, gradually lowering himself as his lips ran over her spine and lower, still busy between her folds. He saw her hands slam against the tiles on the wall. Water was running in rivulets down her breath-taking body; the way her skin glistened by the water was a revelation to him.  

“Divine Abigail!” he groaned as he started kissing and nibbling the same glorious derriere that he had so long dreamt of worshipping. She alternated between sounds of moans, short giggles and sobs as he explored her. She bent forward, once again showing him her pink, fragrant core. He delved in, tasting her with laving kisses while stroking her impossibly long legs. 

“Oh-oh, ohhh...” she moaned in rhythm with his thrusting tongue.  

“Mmmm...” he vibrated back with his lips lightly sucking the bud in the middle of her. His hands had glided up to her hips, grabbing them, as he pushed her back and forth against his face. She arched her back, allowing him better access, and he was on his knees, fully adoring her – could not get enough of her. His big hands squeezed her cheeks, moving even quicker and rubbing his face fully against her. Suddenly, he motioned for her to turn around, and she did so, letting him keep up the effort of his tongue. She was wet and so hot, inside and out. First one, then a second finger slipped into her tight, quivering cunt and he moved slowly insider her while sucking her swelling bud. He wrapped one of her legs over his shoulder and soon felt it shaking, as her sounds turned into short cries.  

“Hhhnngg, Crane... wait!” she said before she had time to orgasm. She turned off the water and the sudden silence helped him to refocus.  

He was loathe to stop, but stilled himself. He loved that view of her; still on his knees and looking up along her stunning body. She was leaning against the wall and her hands rested on his shoulders as she looked down on him lovingly.  

“I always knew that your hands and mouth could do magic, baby...” Her voice heavy with lust. Then her infernal tongue licked her lips. “And I really feel that I want to reciprocate, before I turn into a puddle of goo myself!” 

His hands caressed her thighs as he looked up at her questioningly.  

“Also, I’m a lot more… hairy than usual. Maybe I should…?” she made a gesture down her body and smiled uncertainly as she awaited his reaction.  

It took him a while to understand what she was referring to, as he slowly let his eyes rove over her.  

“Oh!” he suddenly said, understanding. “Uh, we could see to that, but… that is entirely up to you. I wouldn’t ask you to remove a single hair, my lovely Lieutenant! Also, I am from another time and place, so…” he said suggestively and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “You are in every way the most perfect creature, be it as a cat with sleek fur or as a woman with the skin as soft as silk.”  

Smilingly, but biting her lower lip, she sank to her knees in front of him; skin gleamingly wet and so charming in her shower cap. His hair was plastered to his head, so she carefully brushed it back and bent forward to kiss him, tasting herself and letting her alluring tongue flex around his. One hand snuck down and her fingers slowly engirdled his thick, long cock. Lightly, she moved her hand up and down, using how the dampness made the friction easier. He had to grab her shoulders, as a shock of pleasure made his senses reel. So small the hand, so light the touch, so powerful the impact!  

“Good God, Lieutenant!” he whimpered and could hardly keep his head up.  

She leaned in closer and he felt her cheek against his.  

“You OK, baby?” she asked, stilling her movement a bit. But his hand covered hers, urging her to keep moving.  

“Yes... please... yes, Treasure...” he begged.  

She kept her light movements, and also began to kiss his shoulder. When he leaned back to give her lips better access, he felt her kiss and lick along his torso, letting her tongue and lips explore his lean frame and lightly teasing his nipples. It was a sweet, delicious torture and being wet from the shower heightened the feeling. 

Her mouth travelled lower, down his stomach and hips. Lower still. Oh, God, was she –  

When her hot, moist lips covered the tip of his exposed cock, he honestly thought he was going to pass out from pleasure and perhaps never wake up. He had to lean against the wall beside him as he groaned helplessly and grabbed her shoulders much too hard, not sure if he should still her or make her go faster. His cock was throbbing, achingly long and hard with the top in her mouth and the rest with now both her hands around his girth. Slowly, her mouth took more of him, hands still moving. Back and forth, more and more she engulfed him and, to top it all, her other hand moved down to caress his balls. He could hardly believe all he saw and felt. 

“Holy- oh holy-” he tried to articulate, but it only ended in a moan. Then, just as she reached the tip of his cock, her mouth let go of it, and she smiled as that sinful tongue of hers playfully lapped around the head and slit. He gasped, and then she dived in, not gentle anymore. One hand grabbed his cock by the base and her mouth nearly took all of it – how, was too much for his foggy brain to understand – sucking it harder and faster.  

“Abbie! Oh, Christ!” he cried out, but she was without mercy. Her strong grip at the base was probably what saved him from bursting and, consequently, fainting on the bathroom floor.  

“S-stop… Oh heavens, Treasure – you must-must… hhhnngg!” It was his turn to beg her to stop, and her mouth slowly let go of his manhood. 

“You don’t want me to do this?” she asked teasingly, crouched between his naked legs and looking up at him.  

“You minx!” he rasped and pulled her close for another round of kissing. He could taste his saltiness in her cool, soft mouth. Before she could crawl up in his lap, he let go of her lips and stared at her. “Can we continue this in the bed?” 

“You mean in _our_ bed?” she purred.  

“ _Our_ – well, yes. In our bed?”  

“The sooner, the better,” she grinned, and it turned into a delighted laughter as he lifted her up and carried her back into the bedroom. Abbie pulled off the shower cap and threw it over Crane’s shoulder, burrowing her cheek against his chest, not unlike her behaviour as a cat.  

“Still the best thing – whoops!”  

She didn’t get a chance to go deeper into the subject, as Crane flopped them both on the bed and started to vigorously kiss her again. He moved on from her lips and kissed a trail down her body, eagerly murmuring as his lips explored her.  

“You are absolutely ravishing, my beautiful Abbie… Loveliest creature…” He silenced at the lush curve at her waist, finding his way up to her breasts again and letting himself drown in the softness that was her damp, glistening skin and the contrast that was her pebbled nipples. She writhed under him, against him and tugged at the wet strands of his hair. He settled so comfortably his slim hips between her sublime thighs that were hugging him so close to her. His cock, ached so eagerly for more of every kind of closeness to her.  

“Mmmm, Crane…” she mumbled in a shaky voice.  

“Mmm, my beloved Abbie,” he replied against her collarbone.  

“No, baby… I have to ask…” she said and he felt her stiffen in his embrace.  

“Anything, Treasure,” he replied and leaned on his elbow, still holding her petite body close to his.  

Her eyes were suddenly round with worry.  

“My dearest, what is the matter?” he begged her, suddenly gripped with fear.  

“You – I don’t suppose you –” she swallowed slowly. “Condoms?” she finally blurted out.  

“Oh!” he exclaimed, both relieved and uneasy. “No, my sweet Lieutenant… I fear I have never owned any, even if I am familiar with their existence.”  

“Yeah, no… thought not,” she mumbled and hid her face in his chest, quite similar to how she would rub her cat face against him. “And I don’t suppose my birth control is working anymore. Having had your spirit and body on the other side, then returned as a cat, doesn’t sound like something that would make the IUD last.”  

He held her close, stroking her back and noticing that she had tensed up quite a bit.  

“I will remedy this, Treasure,” he assured her, even if leaving her now and go out was about the last thing he wanted. “There is an open drug store just a block away, and –”  

“Wait – hang on,” she said hastily and stopped him from letting her go. “There are… other ways.”  

He looked at her seriously.  

“There is,” he confirmed. He hardly knew if he was able to last very long with her this night, or if he would be able to pull back in time, if…  

“The, uh,” she stuttered. “The morning-after pill.”  

“The what?” he asked, quite surprised.  

“Yeah, I’m sure they sell them here. If we get one tomorrow, it should be safe. It’s a pill that… I need to take in some hours after we… that should work.”  

“You-you are…I mean: are you certain that…?”  

She was tense, he could feel it.  

“It works,” she said.  

“Abbie…” he began and cupped her cheek. “As long as you feel certain of that, and…us, then…” he took a deep breath. “I am at your service. As I am sure you know.”  

“Always the soldier,” she chuckled and reached for him. 

He kissed her lightly to reassure them both. A strange feeling took place in his chest. He desired her deeper than any desire he had ever felt. He loved and cared for her. Hearing her saying that she was willing to be risky in this situation – she, who was so careful in all her bravery – both amazed and worried him. Was she honest to herself? Was she going against her own will? The thought upset him. 

“But if… you feel any kind of doubt, then…” he mumbled against her lips.  

“I-I…” she whispered. “The only thing I really fear is… that I have such trust in you. That I want all of this so much.” She tensed even more and started to struggle against him. He instantly released her. It felt like his heart was getting ripped out of him, but he released her. “All of it, Ichabod. I want everything that a life with you could offer. I do. And I know it’s not like me. But what is the point of living, if I don’t really live and do what I really want?”   

She rolled away, just out of reach, lying flat on her stomach. Seeing her perfect backside sticking up didn’t make him want her less, but he stuck his hands in under the pillows and kept his eyes on where they disappeared under the linen. He hardly dared to consider if she meant what he thought she meant when she said ‘all of it’, but he was burning to know. He could wait, because he had to.  

“You know…” he began and had to smile as a memory hit him. “When you were a cat – and when I’d realised that you weren’t really a cat – then I sometimes thought to myself that I must be… crazy, obviously. Maybe like you felt when I showed up in Sleepy Hollow. Not so much because of the magic involved, but because…” He closed his eyes, searching for the right words. “You were always so guarded. As a human, except for some moments. Not as a cat. Once, two days ago, you rolled over on your back. Do you remember? In my lap. I –” 

“You scratched me behind the ears, and when I rolled over you scratched my stomach lightly,” Abbie filled in.  

“You seem to like that, as a cat.”  

“I do – did. Maybe I still do, we don’t know yet.” 

They both chuckled, and it eased the tension a bit.  

“It just amazed me how you rolled over, exposing your stomach and letting me scratch it...” 

“Me as well, Crane. Honestly. I feel OK, I swear. I love you so much. I want to be here with you, like this. I want to be so close. Closer than possible. Held tight… I don’t recognise that in myself. I… I have a hard time with letting people in, as you know, but you are already closer than anyone has ever been. On a biblical and spiritual level. In soul, and now in body. And I want that. More of that. My old self would have fought against being held so long and so close, my old self would have urged this – sex – to move faster and probably be over by now. Well, not with you. I know that now. I…”  

He saw that she fought against the tears. One of his hands came out from under the pillows and took hers lightly. She squeezed it thankfully.  

“It’s not that I don’t want intimacy. I want it all, with you.”  

There it was again, the ‘all’. She looked into his eyes, her doe eyes shining with tears. He ached to hold her again, to soothe her fears. But most of all he wished to hear her, to make sure that she said what she needed to say.  

“I’ve just never… let it happen. Or felt that safety, or faith in general. I know my heart. It’s just that my body… feels overwhelmed.” 

He simply nodded, still cradling her small hand in his. It was easy to understand; it wasn’t far from his own emotions.  

“You smile…” she observed, smiling as she blinked away the tears.  

“Do I?” he said and felt his smile grow wider. “I am overwhelmed myself. And grateful, for you. I’m… I’m very much in love with you, as you know. Knowing you better only makes me love you more.”  

“Are you sure?” she turned serious again. “I mean… I guess my fear of intimacy doesn’t come as a surprise. But the mixed signals? First urging you to make love to me, then starting to worry and analyse…?”  

“What about it, Lieutenant?”  

“I just… I worry. I mean – isn’t it too much of a bother?”  

“This? You?” he asked, truly bewildered.  

“I don’t know. I feel kinda stupid,” she sighed and hid her face in a pillow.  

“No! No, Abbie – why?” he hastened to ask.  

“I just…” she shook her head, not looking up from the pillow.  

“My beloved,” he begged. “My dearest Abbie, please let me know. If I’m worthy of your trust…”  

She peeked up at him.  

“You don’t think I’m making too big a deal out of this?” 

“No! Of course not! Why, I… if you are in any doubt, I must know. I could never stand it if… After all that has happened before, today, and now… I need to know that you feel that this is absolutely right! This situation is… delicate. In so many different ways. Your return. Your change. The fact that you are here at all. And us… this. This intimacy.”  

She squeezed his hand again, looking at him intently.  

“And it will be intimate, Abbie. This, us. There will not be room for any doubts or…” 

“Boundaries?” she filled in, finally smiling back. 

“No boundaries,” he confirmed. “From either side. I know you are honest and want honesty between us. As do I. But we are also people with a past. An important bit of that past is shared and only understood by us two. But we also had lives before that, and… we had difficulties. We don’t want that to ruin things for us now, but…”  

“So many buts,” she observed.  

“There is only ever _one_ butt that I treasure,” Crane couldn’t help saying and looking pointedly at her tempting derriere. Abbie snorted, but looked pleased.  

“All you say is true, baby. We don’t want our pasts to ruin what we have now.”  

“Which is why it’s so important that we communicate. Which is also why I am so happy and grateful that you put your feelings into words.”  

“There’s a first for everything…” she mused.  

 He nodded, but she shook her head lightly. 

“No, I mean –” she began. “To me this is whole new territory. Exposing myself like this, body and soul.”  

He simply drowned in her eyes before he spoke. 

“You may think it’s not new to me. But remember that… I was lied to, by each and every one I was close to. That I was indeed urged, as you say, into less prudent relationships, mostly for the wrong reasons. My pride, my loneliness… I was in love; that much is true. But I have learnt in a rather harsh way that there was never any honesty between me or any friend, lover, peer or superior until I met you, Grace Abigail…”  

He stopped himself, afraid to go into a full sermon and upset himself. He felt her hand on his cheek, slowly stroking his beard. He closed his eyes, revelling in how easily her touch soothed him and also excited him. 

“You will have honesty from me, Crane,” she said and he knew she spoke the truth. “You may at times know me better than I do myself. Then call me out. Promise me.”  

He had to smile again, and he turned his head a little to kiss her hand on his face.  

“As you must do with me, my beloved Lieutenant,” he added. “Promise me?”  

“I promise,” she smiled and removed her hand. He felt the loss of her touch. But she was slowly rearranging her body, inching closer to his and slowly rolling over on her back. His head went dizzy as he looked at her stunning body again, so exposed to him. She laid back, one arm draped above her head, and the look in her eyes had once again changed.  

“That sly ‘come-hither’ stare…” he mumbled.  

“That leaves your conscious bare?” she filled, truly being seductive. Then came that soft expression of her features again as she carefully ran her arms around his shoulders. “It’s real, baby,” she whispered. “Nothing more and nothing less.”  

He fleetingly wondered if she wanted him to scratch her stomach, or if kissing her there would do. But he gladly succumbed to the pull of her hands as she beckoned him to kiss her mouth again. Her arms closed tightly around his neck.  

“Hold me tight, Crane,” she whispered to him and squeezed him urgently. So he cradled her as close as possible as he practically devoured her mouth. She melted against him, so nimble and soft. They rolled over and as she was draped over him once again, he was reminded of how small she was. Strong, but petite. His arms reached around her twice over. His desires were taking over his senses, but he had to rule his head. Be careful with her. Not that he was in any way a violent lover, but his passion for this woman was unlike anything. Death was merely an inconvenience when it came to his love and eternal need of her. Her body moved against his while his hands roamed over her back.  

She straddled him and gazed into his eyes. He was still so painfully hard for her, and he could scent her arousal as she positioned her hot centre above him. Wetness coated him, making him groan loudly. His hands grabbed on to her hips but not stopping her as she lifted them and helping the tip of his cock into her moist cleft. His eyes were riveted at her actions and as she slowly sank down on him, his mind almost blacked out. He heard her panting quickly, as she carefully moved up and down. She was tight, soft, amazing, too hot, incredibly wet. Slowly she moved, moaning as she took more and more of him inside. He could feel himself stretching her out, feel her adjust, feel her softness pulsate around him. He was adjusting too; body and senses handling that this was really happening, and rejoicing because of it. Groaning as he opened his eyes, he saw her enraptured in her pleasure. A sob escaped him. 

“Treasure…”  

Her angelic smile and a delighted moan was her reply. Bit by bit, until he was completely sheathed inside of her, she moved and finally sat astride him. She looked triumphant; victorious. Grace, restored. Not hers; her grace was eternal. Grace worldwide. His own, though he so little deserved it.  

Their fingers entwined as they were still for some moments, merely revelling in their joining.  

“I am yours,” he ground out. 

“You are mine,” she affirmed, and then she started to move. Lightly, she moved back and forth. Lightly; enough to overwhelm his senses but make his body answer to the call. What moments ago had felt like a holy rite now turned carnal and real. His hips snapped in response, making her groan and sob. Over and over again, they came together. She put his hands back on her curves, covering his fingers with her own.  

“Faster, Ichabod!” she gasped. “Harder, baby! Oh God, harder!” she cried out as he obliged her. And so she rode him wildly, and he took her, over and over, with all thoughts of gentleness forgotten because their bodies cried out for more, for more, for more… As if they were both animals and spirits. As the real humans they were. He heard groans, realising that they came from both of them. He pulled her down on him, rolled them over again, and took her again and again; seeing himself moving in and out of her, driving her over the edge as love and wonder whirled within his soul. Her long legs came up on his torso and he drove even deeper inside of her, the pleasure nearly taking over. But then he looked at her, and decided that his pleasure could wait. Her head was turning back and forth on the pillow as she was groaning faster, helpless against the orgasm that erupted inside her. He felt her cunt gripping his cock rhythmically, and much as he wanted to join her –  

“Crane!” she cried out with a long moan. She was shaking in his arms and he was grateful that he hadn’t joined her this time but witnessed it all, felt her more than himself. He embraced her, overcome with love, and tenderly kissed her temple. He was still inside her, preparing to draw back, but her legs locked around him and her arms grabbed him close. He turned them to the side, adjusting her leg around his hip. She was still shivering against his chest, so close and real.  

“My lovely Abbie,” he mumbled against her forehead along with many more endearments, as she regained her breath. Eventually, she peered up at him, looking every bit as happy and satisfied as he had always dreamt of making her. 

“Baby…” she mumbled dreamily. “I can’t believe we waited so long for this. But you didn’t… You didn’t climax, did you?”  

“Not this time,” he murmured back on her lips. “The night isn’t over… I hope?”  

“Oh God, I guess not!” she giggled and snuggled closer, not minding that they had both worked up a sweat. If anything, it only reminded her of their love-making. “But this was totally amazing – to me. I hope –”  

“It was every bit as amazing to me,” he filled in and laughed, while moving her closer. She yelped, feeling how he still filled her.  

“Are you comfortable?” he hummed.  

“Yes, very comfortable! Which is a surprise!” she snickered. “I mean, all my muscles will probably be sore in ways I haven’t experienced before, but – ohhh!” she ended with a moan as some of her muscles gladly flexed around him in anticipation. He groaned and kissed her again, feeling her core flowing with new juices. 

“Seeing you climax as I had you, my beloved Lieutenant,” he murmured, “It’s all I’ve ever dreamt of. I couldn’t get enough of you.”  

“So when _will_ you get enough of me?” she whispered, slowly trailing her hands over his naked skin. 

“Never, Treasure, never…”  

“So you’ll never give me the joy of seeing _you_ come as you fuck me?” she teased and deliberately used words that made him startle but also grab her hip. “Aaah!” she moaned as he bumped into her.  

“Such language, Lieutenant!” he growled and did it again; filling her to the hilt and making her sob.  

“Ichabod!” she mewled. “Oh baby, yes!”  

Feeling her wetness coating him, he was overcome with the need of tasting her again.  

“Abbie,” he groaned. “May I – taste you? As I did in the shower?”  

She laughed defencelessly. “You _may_? Fuck yeah, you may!”  

Growling, he slipped out of her and lifted her up to his head. She yelped.  

“Forgive me, I wish…”  

“It’s all OK, baby!” she moaned. “I’m gonna sit on your face until you pass out, if you let me!”  

And she nearly did. He licked and sampled her folds until she screamed, holding onto the headboard of the bed. He was delirious in his pursuit; pushing his tongue as far as he could into that marvellous, pink flower, its nectar and scent being the very essence for his survival. After her delicious peak, she still sat on him, relaxed and breathing heavily. His hands and long arms easily reached to caress her back. 

“Crane… please,” she begged and his whole being responded. He lifted her off him and moved up to kiss her.  

“Will you have me again?” he mumbled.  

“Have? Yes, fuck. Yes, I’ll have you again,” she babbled as she understood that they meant the same thing. She was more or less on all four and he slowly slid behind her.  

“How, Treasure? Like this?” he mumbled, trailed his lips down her spine and peppered her divine globes with uninhibited kisses.  

“Yes,” she moaned. “Take me… have me, fuck me… like that,” she begged.  

Kneeling behind her, he eagerly positioned himself and let his cock start to slip inside her again. She gasped and let him set the pace. His hands revelled in moving over her dark, glistening skin and watching her arse that he was so besotted with move against his pale, lanky body. Grabbing the lush curves of her hips again felt like his hands had found their true home and purpose. He pumped into her, felt her body responding and moaning with every push, and emotions ran high inside of him.  

“Abbie!” he groaned, losing his control and thrusting harder. “Abbie, my own! Oh, God! Give me all! Let me have all, let me – let me give you…”  

Hearing her increasing cries of ecstasy and feeling her clamp around him told him she was close again, and he slapped into her as she came, and his own pleasure was deep and earthshattering, even if he was still hard. He felt her legs shake and stroke it soothingly, bending over her to kiss her exposed neck. She was still pulsating around him, sobbing in relief.  

Abbie pulled herself up, holding onto the headboard. Her other hand went back to cup Ichabod’s backside, making sure he stayed close to her, inside of her. Ichabod’s hands encircled from behind, cupping her breasts and kissing her shoulders. 

“Crane…” she sighed.  

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he murmured into her locks. “I hope I please you, my beloved…”  

She turned around slowly in his arms, carefully letting him slide out of her, and put her arms around his neck. Her whole expression showed that she was more than pleased and her passionate kiss was the perfect seal of approval. 

“Baby, you can go on pleasing me like this all night, I wouldn’t mind!” she smiled and rubbed her little nose tip on his. Her body against his made him tingle again, her skin was silk and her hard nipples pressed into his chest. Crane embraced her gratefully. Her lips caressed his cheek and ear. “But Crane…” she continued and looked at him seriously. “Your stamina is what I should be: out of this world.” Her wry but loving expression, paired with the humour in her voice made him laugh with surprise. He pulled her close to straddle his lap, seating them comfortable and holding her close. She swept back his hair from his forehead. “And why is your hair so short, by the way?”  

“I will gladly grow it back,” he said and kissed her again.  

“Mmmm, do…” she answered into his mouth. Slowly letting her lips part from his, she whispered: “And will you please tell me what’s on your mind, baby?”  

“I don’t –” he tried, but she put a finger on his lips.  

“Honesty, remember?” she mumbled and stroke his beard lovingly. “I’m not saying you have to tell me now. But I will keep on asking, and you can tell me, when you’re ready. Is there something you need, Ichabod?”  

He hugged her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck.  

“You see through me even better than I see through you,” he mumbled and starting kissing her there.  

“Oh yeah?” she replied, again with her dry humour and cupping his large head in her arms. Placing her lips on his ear, she rocked closer. 

“You said, earlier,” he began carefully, “that you wanted all, with me. A full life.”  

“M-hmm,” she assured. “I mean it, Crane.”  

“As I do with you, Lieutenant, with all my heart.”  

“And?”  

“And I just wonder if by ‘all’, we mean the same thing.”  

“Well, we are quite different, you and I,” she mumbled reassuringly. “But when it comes down to it, we always see eye to eye.”  

“We do,” he confirmed and moved his lips to nuzzle her cheek. 

“So what do you mean, when you say you want it all with me?” she asked gently.  

“Well, I –” he startled. “I am… an old-fashioned man,” he began.  

She chuckled. “You’re scandalously old, and so is your fashion,” she said as she hugged him. “But you adapt well enough to the modern world when you want to.”  

“When I –! Well!” he exclaimed.  

She laughed by his expression, fully and happily.  

“See?” she said. “You’re still you and I’m still me. We just have to adapt a bit. And live.”  

“Live,” he echoed. “Live fully.”  

“Yes,” she agreed.  

“Come what may?”  

“Come what may,” she guaranteed. 

“Will you marry me, Abbie?”  

“What?!”  

He sighed, already feeling defeated. How much of this had he ruined now? She had tensed in his arms, but stayed put. 

“I mean it, Lieutenant. I’m sorry, this is probably not the best of times to ask,” he said as he squeezed his eyes shut and held on to her. “But… life. Living it. Having all of it, and Apocalypse be damned… between the tribulations, at least. We will deal with it as it comes, as we always do,” he continued, not able to stop himself from saying all that filled his heart. “We’ll be together and keep our children safe –” 

“Yes.”  

“And speaking of children probably makes this even worse, but –” 

“No, I like it.”  

“But I want to be honest with you and – what?” he finally said and slowly opening his eyes, he noticed that she was once more relaxed in his arms. She was smiling, her eyes shining.  

“Did you just…” he began.  

“What?” she grinned in that infuriatingly, adorable way. 

“Abbie! Please…”  

“OK, OK. Ask me again, Captain.”  

“Lieutenant…” he started slowly and looked into her soft eyes. “Will you… actually marry me?”  

“Right away,” she answered promptly.  

“You will!?” he replied, stunned. “And have children with me?” he ventured and hugged her naked body close. To think that he would propose to her in this manner!  

“As soon as possible,” she beamed. “See – we do mean the same thing!”  

“Wha – Treasure! Are you sure?” he asked fervently and cupped her cheek.  

She was smiling, he saw that her eyes glittered with unshed tears.  

“I mean it, baby. This is what I want. All of it. Us.”  

He sobbed first, pulling her into a new, wondrous round of kissing where he felt the saltiness of tears, kisses that lead to her pulling him back over her as she landed on her back. He felt both their tears on his cheek and saw pearly droplets in her long eyelashes as she made breathless sobs. He reached up and kissed them away, then met her eyes just to drown in them instead of their tears of joy. Just as easily as his mouth now found hers, as easily were their bodies joined again. Her moan into his mouth sent vibrations into him. Together, in every way, blissfully joined in complete ecstasy. Joy and love like he had never known filled his being.  

Anchored in her, he was moving slowly and letting his lips roam over her face and down her neck as they rocked together and he felt her taking him fully, and giving to him all of herself. How, he couldn’t say. Only that it so completely matched his own inner relief. He was hers, and he wanted nothing more.  

“I love you, Abbie,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I love you with all that I am.”  

“Oh God, yes!” she sobbed back and her eyes flew open. Staring into his very soul, she replied: “I love you, Ichabod, yes, yes, I do – all of me. _Ooohhh_ …”  

Feeling her move against him in that now so familiar way made him move faster, and her moans increased in rhythm with his pace.  

 _She wants me, all of me._  

It was his last rational thought before her tell-tale fluttering began around his throbbing cock. Desperately grabbing on to a pillow next to her head, he stared at her in rapture and he felt a new orgasm ripple through her body as he thrusted frantically into her. And then, when her nails dug like claws into his shoulders and his body stopped doubting that it wasn’t just a dream, that’s when he finally lost control of both his anxious mind and body, and came hard with a long, throaty cry, pulsating into her with blinding rapture.  

They had collapsed together, kissing and sobbing, and he had enough sense to not crush her entirely. Cuddling together, both still shaking, her face rubbed against his beard and neck, quietly laughing.  

“Little kitten,” he mumbled. “My one love, my whole life…”  

“Crane… my man,” she purred back. “I love you so.” 

When he tried to move apart from her, she locked her leg harder around his hip.  

“You stay right here with me, mister,” she grinned.  

“Your wish, Treasure,” he replied against her lips before she kissed him again. “I… know there’s no way of knowing whether we must deal with the consequences.”  

“If you mean that we said we’d get a morning-after pill?” she asked in drowsy satisfaction. “No need on my account, since we… made some decisions on the future.”  

“We did,” he replied happily and cradled her closer to his chest. “So… all consequences are welcome?”  

“Crane, if you’re asking if it’s OK to make me pregnant, then the answer is yes. You’re welcome to try as often as you like,” she chuckled and he smiled into her hair, feeling his cheeks growing hot. “And after you make me pregnant as well,” she added for emphasis. 

A laughter rumbled in his chest, making her nuzzle even closer to him.  

“It’s incredible,” he mumbled. “The things you say, that this has happened between us.”  

“Even after having slept underground for over 200 years, battled demons and called me back from the dead once more?” she asked teasingly. “I know, baby. But believe me, it’s true,” she assured and stretched up to kiss him sweetly. “We can even get a pet, if you like,” she giggled. 

He could only chuckle, almost succumbing to content sleep with a human and loving Abbie in his arms. 

They only detangled when she needed the bathroom and he used it after her, grinning at the sight of his tousled hair and marks from her eager lips on his neck in the bathroom mirror.  

“Animal,” he mumbled as he washed himself and referred to them both. He checked the marks from her nails on his shoulders. They were not as red as the one she had made with her cat claws on his arm. Best battle wounds he had ever received. 

They cuddled close and fell into slumber after just a little while, and Crane pulled the duvet over them. It was dark outside and he didn’t care if it was early or late. Later, they woke up from caressing one another and mindlessly started to make love again; her back was against his chest and that magnificent backside moved tantalisingly against his ever so eager manhood. She could turn around enough to kiss him as his hand sneaked down from her breast to her wet curls where his fingers found her pearl begging for attention. When she was close to coming, he slipped into her hot core and fucked her until she was writhing in pleasure. He followed her with ease while his face was buried in her hair, knowing how wanted and loved he was by her. It wasn’t like a dream and it wasn’t like reality. It was their realm, and yet it was still transcending it somehow. As he pulled out of her and cuddled closer, he could have sworn in that moment that her skin felt like her sleek cat fur. They were one, and… they fell into satisfied slumber again.  

~*~ 

Waking up, she was still languidly stretched by his side; awake and washing her paw with her pink tongue. Turning to look at him, she purred lovingly and her eyes blinked slowly.  

 _Finally._  

He could hear her through some sort of vibrato in her voice. Being able to hear her as a cat; that was new. Being a cat, that was also new. His paw was as black as hers. Sensing his whiskers, he noticed that his were whiter than hers. And was his fur a bit... furry?  

 _Am I furry_ _, Lieutenant_ _?_  

 _You’re a furry, alright._  

Cat Abbie rolled her eyes. Crane jumped off the bed and over to a tall mirror by his closet. Yes, he was a bit furry. He was also quite a handsome cat, if he might say so himself. Abbie came up next to him.  

 _I’m adorable!_  

Abbie hissed, but still licked him with her coarse tongue. He had missed that. A deep satisfaction filled him and it manifested in a rumbling purr. He reciprocated and licked her blank fur.  

 _So is this our life now?_ _Perfect for spying!_  

It was an odd way of communicating, but his mind as a cat could still appreciate a new, foreign language.  

 _Only occasionally. We’ll get a hang of it, switching back and forth when we have to._  

That was enough to assure him. What a strange, new mission! He should have guessed. Eager to try out his agile cat body, he stretched and yawned. Yes, he was a black cat like her, save the white whiskers.  

 _So, Lieutenant, let me guess – is it our mission to avenge the grabbing of pussies?_  

Abbie swished her tail and meowed at his pun.  

 _That’s very close to the truth, Captain!_ _There’s definitely evil that will need our sharp claws._  

Strange how he could still hear her voice so clearly.  

 _When do we start?_  

He lovingly butted his nose on her sweet cat face.  

 _Well, let me show you the surroundings first. You left the window open and I know a way down the roof…_  

Together, they slunk out into the night, exploring new possibilities and looking for new adventures. Always together.  

~The End~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> When I wrote this fic, there wasn't any doubt that there would still be birth control available. I hope that will always be the case. I think you can easily guess what Ichabbie's next mission is. They will be successful, of course. As we all will.
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> I will not write any sequel to this. My next Ichabbie fic will definitely be AU.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Artwork by [Doomtwinkie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/pseuds/doomtwinkie), awesome artist, writer, beta and best friend. <3


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